


colour in your cheeks

by loghain



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loghain/pseuds/loghain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You sure you want me to stop?” Simon’s voice is low, quiet, and Kieren looks at how Simon is poised, eyes heavy-lidded, perched between Kieren’s knees like he has nowhere else he’d rather be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	colour in your cheeks

“Amy’s in the other room,” Kieren hisses, breath whistling past his teeth, even as he lets Simon kiss his throat, hold his hips, push him to sit down on the edge of the bed. His words are half hearted and Simon knows it, else he’d have stopped already, and Kieren is trying so hard to serious, to really mean that they should stop, but — 

“Amy’s not going to come in,” Simon answers, and somewhere during Kieren’s completely silent mental protests he’s gotten down onto his knees, hands resting on Kieren’s thighs. “She knows we’re in here.”

“Still,” Kieren tries, “I don’t think we should,” and Simon’s response this time is a noise that sounds suspiciously like he’s laughing at Kieren, right before he unbuckles the front of Kieren’s jeans. He drags down the fly of Kieren’s jeans so, so slowly, and in the thick silence that falls on them both Kieren can hear each of the teeth unlock. Kieren’s throat is dry.

“You sure you want me to stop?” Simon’s voice is low, quiet, and Kieren looks at how Simon is poised, eyes heavy-lidded, perched between Kieren’s knees like he has nowhere else he’d rather be.

“No,” Kieren admits in a whisper, half-annoyed that he’s so easily won, but it fizzes out when Simon palms his crotch, rubbing at Kieren’s cock through fabric, teasing him until Kieren’s breathing is heavier. 

Simon works his way past Kieren’s open fly, pulls aside his boxers, and although Kieren was expecting it he’s still somehow taken by surprise when Simon takes his cock into his mouth; he doesn’t waste time, those off-colour lips of his making a firm ‘o’. His mouth is so _warm_ , and wet, warmer than Kieren expected; he rationalises that Simon’s been indoors all day, his temperature up to match the relative warmth of the bungalow — 

Simon takes Kieren deeper in his mouth and Kieren whimpers, thoughts scattering like marbles. His fist balls in the bedsheets next to him, his other hand flying up to cover his mouth; he muffles his moans against his own skin, clamping his hand to his face as hard as he can as he watches Simon’s head bob up and down, feels the press of his tongue on the underside of his cock. 

Simon pulls his mouth away, one hand working up and down — at first Kieren doesn’t really process what’s going on, and then he realises that Simon is shakily undoing his own jeans, his knees pushing a little further apart on the carpet. He doesn’t even bother pushing his boxers down; the hand disappears inside them and then Simon groans when he puts his mouth back on Kieren’s cock, eyes fluttering closed. 

Kieren’s going to come too quickly if Simon keeps this up. He wants to touch Simon’s hair, his face, run his fingers along his cheeks, the place where Simon’s lips are stretched against his dick, but he doesn’t trust himself not to cover up his mouth - he settles for the hand he’d been bunching in the sheets touching against the curve of Simon’s neck. 

Simon does _something_ , with his tongue, with his hand, and then looks up from his task with dark, sharp eyes, staring at Kieren like all he wants is to see his reaction, and Kieren’s hand can’t quite muffle the low moan he lets out, whispering “Simon, Simon, Simon” between his fingers, desperate.

Below his immediate line of vision he can see Simon's hand working faster inside his jeans. They're in a deep loop of sorts; Kieren knows getting him off is getting Simon off, but knowing that Simon's getting off on getting Kieren off -- oh, fuck, it's too much to think about right now, to consider the cause and effect of one's arousal on the other, when all there is is Simon's warm mouth and insistent tongue, the hand working at what isn't in Simon's mouth, the way Simon keeps letting out little groans every now and then --

Simon pulls off again. He presses his forehead to Kieren's knee, moans breathily, taking a breather, and he drags his hand up Kieren's cock, swiping his thumb over the head and making Kieren shudder. Simon turns his head and smiles up at Kieren, a big obnoxious grin that makes Kieren's gut lurch, makes him want to push Simon's face down on his cock.

Something in his face must've changed, cause Simon does exactly what Kieren wanted, mouth back around his cock, lips pushing down. He's more eager than before, determined, mouth slipping down lower, and Kieren's really struggling now, his skin feeling pinpricked all over with heat, his stomach heaving, orgasm building up like a fire in his belly. "Simon," he whispers, uncovering his mouth and strangling his moans by biting his lip instead. He touches Simon's hair, pushes his fingers into it, taking the short length in his hands, not daring to pull.

"Simon, I'm," it's hard to warn without actually coming, so he doesn't say it, he whispers instead, "What are you gonna -- ?"

Simon's mouth leaves his cock just long enough for him to pant, "I wanna - " and that's all the answer Kieren needs. Simon sucks at the head of his cock and it's the final tease that pushes Kieren over the edge, every muscle in his body tightening as Kieren bites down on the back of his hand to stop himself crying out as he comes.

Simon pulls back but not away, stroking Kieren through his orgasm, eyes flickering up to watch him. Kieren has to close his own; it’s too much, being stared at like that, knowing that Simon’s swallowing his come, knowing Simon’s still jerking himself off through this.

By the time he stops shuddering, Simon’s surged up, lurching towards him, bracing a knee on the bed. Any other time, if he’d had his senses even remotely, he would’ve stopped him, laughed, been like, _do you really think you’re going to kiss me right now_ but he can’t bring himself _not_ to kiss Simon, crushing their mouths together even though he can taste himself on his tongue. 

Simon hasn’t come yet. He’s still touching himself, kissing Kieren and touching himself. Kieren can tell he’s close enough that he doesn’t need extra help to get off, so Kieren just presses his hand against the outside of his jeans and boxers, just so Simon can feel him, know he’s there, know he wants him.

“Kieren,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, and then he buries his face into his neck and groans through his own orgasm, muffling sound against skin.

Simon collapses himself onto the bed next to Kieren, pulling himself up and just looking at Kieren. He makes a face when he unceremoniously wipes his hand on his jeans, and Kieren pulls an appalled face in return as he tucks himself away and does his jeans up. He lies back on the bed, and then finds himself at a loss with the way Simon is looking at him. “What?”

Simon shakes his head. “Nothing.” Then, “I love you." 

Kieren hasn’t quite gotten used to hearing that. It makes his mouth twist up, trying to smile and not smile all at once, so he kisses Simon instead, sweet and chaste, not like before. “I love you too.” 

“Mm.” Simon leans in, touches Kieren’s neck with his fingertips, then admits, “I think Amy heard us."

 


End file.
